Mike by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (most popular novels .TXT) 📕
He was alone in the carriage. Bob, who had been spending the last week of the holidays with an aunt further down the line, was to board the train at East Wobsley, and the brothers were to make a state entry into Wrykyn together. Meanwhile, Mike was left to his milk chocolate, his magazines, and his reflections.
The latter were not numerous, nor profound. He was excited. He had been petitioning the home authorities for the past year to be allowed to leave his private school and go to Wrykyn, and now the thing had come about. He wondered what sort of a house Wain's was, and whether they had any chance of the cricket cup. According to Bob they had no earthly; but then Bob only recognised one house, Donaldson's. He wondered if Bob would get his first eleven cap this year, and if he himself were likely to do anything at cricket. Marjory had faithfully reported e
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summer night through the open window. He gibbered slightly when Mike
reappeared.
“Jackson! What do you mean by running about outside the house in this
way! I shall punish you very heavily. I shall certainly report the
matter to the headmaster. I will not have boys rushing about the
garden in their pyjamas. You will catch an exceedingly bad cold. You
will do me two hundred lines, Latin and English. Exceedingly so. I
will not have it. Did you not hear me call to you?”
“Please, sir, so excited,” said Mike, standing outside with his hands
on the sill.
“You have no business to be excited. I will not have it. It is
exceedingly impertinent of you.”
“Please, sir, may I come in?”
“Come in! Of course, come in. Have you no sense, boy? You are laying
the seeds of a bad cold. Come in at once.”
Mike clambered through the window.
“I couldn’t find him, sir. He must have got out of the garden.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Mr. Wain. “Undoubtedly so. It was very wrong of
you to search for him. You have been seriously injured. Exceedingly
so”
He was about to say more on the subject when Wyatt strolled into the
room. Wyatt wore the rather dazed expression of one who has been
aroused from deep sleep. He yawned before he spoke.
“I thought I heard a noise, sir,” he said.
He called Mr. Wain “father” in private, “sir” in public. The presence
of Mike made this a public occasion.
“Has there been a burglary?”
“Yes,” said Mike, “only he has got away.”
“Shall I go out into the garden, and have a look round, sir?” asked
Wyatt helpfully.
The question stung Mr. Wain into active eruption once more.
“Under no circumstances whatever,” he said excitedly. “Stay where you
are, James. I will not have boys running about my garden at night. It
is preposterous. Inordinately so. Both of you go to bed immediately. I
shall not speak to you again on this subject. I must be obeyed
instantly. You hear me, Jackson? James, you understand me? To bed at
once. And, if I find you outside your dormitory again to-night, you
will both be punished with extreme severity. I will not have this lax
and reckless behaviour.”
“But the burglar, sir?” said Wyatt.
“We might catch him, sir,” said Mike.
Mr. Wain’s manner changed to a slow and stately sarcasm, in much the
same way as a motorcar changes from the top speed to its first.
“I was under the impression,” he said, in the heavy way almost
invariably affected by weak masters in their dealings with the
obstreperous, “I was distinctly under the impression that I had
ordered you to retire immediately to your dormitory. It is possible
that you mistook my meaning. In that case I shall be happy to repeat
what I said. It is also in my mind that I threatened to punish you
with the utmost severity if you did not retire at once. In these
circumstances, James—and you, Jackson—you will doubtless see the
necessity of complying with my wishes.”
They made it so.
IN WHICH MIKE IS DISCUSSED
Trevor and Clowes, of Donaldson’s, were sitting in their study a week
after the gramophone incident, preparatory to going on the river. At
least Trevor was in the study, getting tea ready. Clowes was on the
window-sill, one leg in the room, the other outside, hanging over
space. He loved to sit in this attitude, watching some one else work,
and giving his views on life to whoever would listen to them. Clowes
was tall, and looked sad, which he was not. Trevor was shorter, and
very much in earnest over all that he did. On the present occasion he
was measuring out tea with a concentration worthy of a general
planning a campaign.
“One for the pot,” said Clowes.
“All right,” breathed Trevor. “Come and help, you slacker.”
“Too busy.”
“You aren’t doing a stroke.”
“My lad, I’m thinking of Life. That’s a thing you couldn’t do. I often
say to people, ‘Good chap, Trevor, but can’t think of Life. Give him a
tea-pot and half a pound of butter to mess about with,’ I say, ‘and
he’s all right. But when it comes to deep thought, where is he? Among
the also-rans.’ That’s what I say.”
“Silly ass,” said Trevor, slicing bread. “What particular rot were you
thinking about just then? What fun it was sitting back and watching
other fellows work, I should think.”
“My mind at the moment,” said Clowes, “was tensely occupied with the
problem of brothers at school. Have you got any brothers, Trevor?”
“One. Couple of years younger than me. I say, we shall want some more
jam to-morrow. Better order it to-day.”
“See it done, Tigellinus, as our old pal Nero used to remark. Where is
he? Your brother, I mean.”
“Marlborough.”
“That shows your sense. I have always had a high opinion of your
sense, Trevor. If you’d been a silly ass, you’d have let your people
send him here.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t have minded.”
“I withdraw what I said about your sense. Consider it unsaid. I have a
brother myself. Aged fifteen. Not a bad chap in his way. Like the
heroes of the school stories. ‘Big blue eyes literally bubbling over
with fun.’ At least, I suppose it’s fun to him. Cheek’s what I call
it. My people wanted to send him here. I lodged a protest. I said,
‘One Clowes is ample for any public school.’”
“You were right there,” said Trevor.
“I said, ‘One Clowes is luxury, two excess.’ I pointed out that I was
just on the verge of becoming rather a blood at Wrykyn, and that I
didn’t want the work of years spoiled by a brother who would think it
a rag to tell fellows who respected and admired me–-”
“Such as who?”
“–-Anecdotes of a chequered infancy. There are stories about me
which only my brother knows. Did I want them spread about the school?
No, laddie, I did not. Hence, we see my brother two terms ago, packing
up his little box, and tooling off to Rugby. And here am I at Wrykyn,
with an unstained reputation, loved by all who know me, revered by all
who don’t; courted by boys, fawned upon by masters. People’s faces
brighten when I throw them a nod. If I frown–-”
“Oh, come on,” said Trevor.
Bread and jam and cake monopolised Clowes’s attention for the next
quarter of an hour. At the end of that period, however, he returned to
his subject.
“After the serious business of the meal was concluded, and a simple
hymn had been sung by those present,” he said, “Mr. Clowes resumed his
very interesting remarks. We were on the subject of brothers at
school. Now, take the melancholy case of Jackson Brothers. My heart
bleeds for Bob.”
“Jackson’s all right. What’s wrong with him? Besides, naturally, young
Jackson came to Wrykyn when all his brothers had been here.”
“What a rotten argument. It’s just the one used by chaps’ people, too.
They think how nice it will be for all the sons to have been at the
same school. It may be all right after they’re left, but while they’re
there, it’s the limit. You say Jackson’s all right. At present,
perhaps, he is. But the term’s hardly started yet.”
“Well?”
“Look here, what’s at the bottom of this sending young brothers to the
same school as elder brothers?”
“Elder brother can keep an eye on him, I suppose.”
“That’s just it. For once in your life you’ve touched the spot. In
other words, Bob Jackson is practically responsible for the kid.
That’s where the whole rotten trouble starts.”
“Why?”
“Well, what happens? He either lets the kid rip, in which case he may
find himself any morning in the pleasant position of having to explain
to his people exactly why it is that little Willie has just received
the boot, and why he didn’t look after him better: or he spends all
his spare time shadowing him to see that he doesn’t get into trouble.
He feels that his reputation hangs on the kid’s conduct, so he broods
over him like a policeman, which is pretty rotten for him and maddens
the kid, who looks on him as no sportsman. Bob seems to be trying the
first way, which is what I should do myself. It’s all right, so far,
but, as I said, the term’s only just started.”
“Young Jackson seems all right. What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t
stick on side any way, which he might easily do, considering his
cricket.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him in that way. I’ve talked to him
several times at the nets, and he’s very decent. But his getting into
trouble hasn’t anything to do with us. It’s the masters you’ve got to
consider.”
“What’s up? Does he rag?”
“From what I gather from fellows in his form he’s got a genius for
ragging. Thinks of things that don’t occur to anybody else, and does
them, too.”
“He never seems to be in extra. One always sees him about on
half-holidays.”
“That’s always the way with that sort of chap. He keeps on wriggling
out of small rows till he thinks he can do anything he likes without
being dropped on, and then all of a sudden he finds himself up to the
eyebrows in a record smash. I don’t say young Jackson will land
himself like that. All I say is that he’s just the sort who does. He’s
asking for trouble. Besides, who do you see him about with all the
time?”
“He’s generally with Wyatt when I meet him.”
“Yes. Well, then!”
“What’s wrong with Wyatt? He’s one of the decentest men in the
school.”
“I know. But he’s working up for a tremendous row one of these days,
unless he leaves before it comes off. The odds are, if Jackson’s so
thick with him, that he’ll be roped into it too. Wyatt wouldn’t land
him if he could help it, but he probably wouldn’t realise what he was
letting the kid in for. For instance, I happen to know that Wyatt
breaks out of his dorm. every other night. I don’t know if he takes
Jackson with him. I shouldn’t think so. But there’s nothing to prevent
Jackson following him on his own. And if you’re caught at that game,
it’s the boot every time.”
Trevor looked disturbed.
“Somebody ought to speak to Bob.”
“What’s the good? Why worry him? Bob couldn’t do anything. You’d only
make him do the policeman business, which he hasn’t time for, and
which is bound to make rows between them. Better leave him alone.”
“I don’t know. It would be a beastly thing for Bob if the kid did get
into a really bad row.”
“If you must tell anybody, tell the Gazeka. He’s head of Wain’s, and
has got far more chance of keeping an eye on Jackson than Bob has.”
“The Gazeka is a fool.”
“All front teeth and side. Still, he’s on the spot. But what’s the
good of worrying. It’s nothing to do with us, anyhow. Let’s stagger
out, shall we?”
*
Trevor’s conscientious nature, however, made it impossible for him to
drop the matter. It disturbed him all the time that he and Clowes were
on the river;
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